


You Can't Dry Clean Me Away

by RileySmoch



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Main Pairing Rintori, Nitori's a Fashion Designer AU, Rin's training for the Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:32:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RileySmoch/pseuds/RileySmoch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wasn't looking where he was going, and then he bumped into someone, and as luck would have it the collision ended up staining a certain one-of-a-kind designer coat valuing more digits than Rin's entire Olympic career. Of course he offered to dry clean it for the little blue-eyed runt it was the least he could do (give him some credit Rin wasn't that big of a jerk).</p><p>But somehow what was supposed to be a quick apology meet-up turned out not so quick. Or apologetic, even. And now he couldn't get rid of the guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sherpa Coats

"I don't understand why you're so against this!" Nitori huffed, lightly slamming his coffee cup on the counter.

He heard Rei sigh over the line. "Really, Ai? _Really?_ " The loss of a honorific to his name notified him that his bespectacled friend was being dead serious.

"Yes, really. What's wrong with me liking him?"

"Ai, you're the _famous Pilotfish fashion designer_ ," Rei spoke as if he were talking to a child. "He's _training for the olympics_. You're from two completely different worlds! And besides, didn't you just say a few days ago that he was _'always angry'_ and _'forever a grump'_?"

Nitori furrowed his eyebrows and twirled the cord between his fingers. "Well, yes…" he admitted sheepishly. "But I never said I didn't like him! And he was actually pretty nice today…. He helped me collect my files when I dropped them, you know! And then gave me his card!"

Another sigh, more tired this time. "He helped you pick up your files cause you dropped them. _Cause he bumped into you,_ " he said. "He gave you his card cause _you fell, cause he bumped into you,_ and he saw that your coat got mud on it. _He offered to dry-clean it for you_. Your designer Pilotfish coat. Your _favorite sherpa Pilotfish coat_ , to be exact. It's sherpa, Ai. _He offered to dry clean sherpa._ "

Nitori scratched his cheek, pouting. "That's not fair…," he muttered. "How about you, huh? You're the _famous Butterfly swimsuits designer_ , Rei. Nagisa -- Nagisa's an entomologist. An _entomologist_ , Rei! You're also from two completely different worlds, but _you're married!_ "

"I'll have you know he's a lepidopterist! And he was the sole inspiration for my entire Butterfly collection!" the indigo-haired man's frown was practically audible. He heard him draw a breath in for the next line, when suddenly—

_Ding dong!_

"Oops! Gotta go, Rei! Someone's at the door!"

"Wait, what? Who is it? I thought you didn't have any meetings today!"

"It's not a client! It's…somebody you don't know! Goodbye!"

"Ai! Ai, wait! Ai that better not be Matsuo—"

He hung up. _'Okay Aiichiro old boy, you have one shot at this.'_ He quickly glanced at his reflection in the mirror and gave himself a reassuring grin before walking towards the door and unlocking it.

Standing in the doorway was Rin Matsuoka, Japan's future olympic swimming gold champion if Nitori ever saw one. Well, technically, he was the first one Nitori's ever seen. He wasn't really into sports things. Unless preparing for a fashion show was considered a sport _and it really should be with all the running around they have to do that stuff was tiring._

"Uh, hi…," Oh God even when he was frowning _(forever a grump)_ he was gorgeous. His eyes softened slightly as he regarded Nitori. "…sorry, again. About this morning."

"Oh it's nothing!" Nitori replied a little too quickly, a little too late. "I mean, I know you're busy, being an olympic…training…person…thing." _Smooth, Ai. So smooth. I mean, who needs Nagisa? Definitely not you, not with moves like that._

"Um, right… Anyway. I'm here to pick up your coat."

_Right. That's the thing..._ "Actually, it's Pilotfish sherpa…," he meekly began. When Rin's expression didn't change, Nitori realized exactly how far apart their worlds were. "…meaning, it can't be dry cleaned…?" 

"…oh." His face fell.

"…I mean, _some_ sherpa can be dry cleaned. But not this coat. Not my coat. Not any Pilotfish sherpa coat, actually…."

"I-I'm sorry, I just…," For the first time, Rin looked nervous. "I can't afford to pay for your coat, if that's what you're saying."

"Oh, no!" he quickly said, throwing his hands in front of his chest and shaking his head. "It's totally okay. No worries. I can just get another one, no biggie."

_'No you can't. That was a one-of-a-kind, Pilotfish original. And do you remember why it's one-of-a-kind? Cause that sherpa wool was top of the line dammit and that was the first coat you made when your brand finally got the royalties to that kind of material and that single coat was so iconic that there was a specific market just for its knockoffs. Not like Mr. Always-Angry would know that, clearly.'_

Nitori silenced his thoughts.

"O-oh…" Rin's eyebrows drew close and his frown deepened. "Then why did you call me…?"

Nitori's mind drew a blank. Could he say, _'it's just that I think you're rather attractive and I know we only see each other every morning on my way to the studio while you're on your daily jog so I decided to jump at the opportunity to talk to you without seeming like a total creep.'_ Okay no, that wasn't going to work.

"Rin, what's taking so long?"

He was saved from looking like a gaping fish when a man approached them. His blue eyes apathetically crossed over Nitori for a split second before falling on Rin. "You told me this was going to be quick." His face was blank but his tone betrayed slight irritation.

"It is, Haru. Sorry coach. Actually we just finished." Rin looked at Nitori one last time and scowled, clearly annoyed by this apparent waste of time. The two turned to leave. Nitori bit his lip. He didn't know what brought upon his next words, but he blamed it on desperation.

_"I want to sponsor you."_

Rin and Haru's heads turned so fast Nitori was surprised he didn't hear a _crack._

"What? Why?" Rin's eyes were narrowed and hostile. Nitori flinched, perhaps he had overstepped, and was about to retreat when Haru firmly placed his hand on Rin's shoulder and pushed him to the side with an irked _"Let me handle this, god"_ whispered between his lips.

"You're…Nitori-san, right? Designer?" His voice was cool, but not cold.

"Umm, Pilotfish founder, actually, but yes…"

He exhaled. "We really appreciate the invitation Nitori-san, but…you're a fashion designer, and…" he seemed to struggle to find the right words, so Rin _helpfully_ piped in for him.

"And I'm an olympian swimmer why the hell would I be supported by some high-end designer fashion company _that doesn't even make any fucking sense._ "

Haru glared at him, but Nitori could tell he agreed. The silver-haired man needed to find an edge and quick, but _'oh good Lord these guys are all sports and no fashion and I'm all fashion so what do I say what do I say.'_

"I can pay for your training, and, uh…I can provide you-your whole team, with…swimsuits."

Rin scoffed. His eyes rolled. "We already _have_ swimsuits."

" _Butterfly_ swimsuits?"

Haru's eyes widened a fraction. "Butterfly…." _Jackpot._

Haru and Rin looked at each other again and Nitori patted himself on the back. He didn't know much about spots stuff other than the basics, but he knew his best friend's sports brand made the bee's knees of all swimsuits. That's why they were so damned pricy.

"Are you sure you can get us those swimsuits? _Butterfly swimsuits?_ The whole team?" The redhead challenged.

"Positive." And for the first time since that morning, Nitori felt confident, like it was the fashion week where his brand made its debut all over again. "Rei's a close friend of mine, I can actually call him right now—"

"Rei? As in Ryugazaki Rei?" Rin demanded, frown finally falling, giving way to pure shock. When Nitori nodded, the swimmers fell silent.

"…call Makoto. We're getting new uniforms."

_'Hook. Line. Sinker. Nagisa would be so proud.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got most (?) of the plot thought out, I hope I'm not over-preparing...cause I usually don't write multi-chaptered stories, so I don't know if anyone will be interested in this enough to keep track of it....
> 
> I apologize for any errors in terms of sponsoring, or the olympics. I'm not sure how these things work, exactly.
> 
> I suppose I was lightly inspired by some blogs on tumblr ^w^


	2. Gossip Whatever Thing

"You did _what_." The was a sound of a tea cup clinking against its ceramic plate where Rei dropped it. Nitori bit his lip nervously.

Three of them were seated around breakfast at their usual cafe, the designers across each other and the entomologist beside his husband. Needless to say, Rei was not amused by his friend's news.

"Oh come on Rei, please?" Nitori pleaded. "I know you have a couple designs you've been wanting to test out on professional swimmers, this is your best shot!"

Rei folded his arms and glowered at Nagisa's cake. "Still, that doesn't give you the right to toss my brand around as if you own it, Nitori!" Oh no. Last names. He was angry.

"I think it's a great idea!" _Nagisa bless your soul. You're getting that strawberry cake at the window._ "Wouldn't it be cool, Rei-Rei? Designing new swimsuits, supporting Japan? One might say, 'nothing's more beautiful that nationalism'! Right?"

He could tell Rei was wavering by the way he looked at the bubbly blond currently next to him. "Plus," Just one last push. "Think of the marketing opportunity! Butterfly's never sponsored anything before, why not start with something big?"

Rei bounced his eyes back and forth between his husband and his best friend, before letting his head drop next to his tea with a groan. "Both of you…you're really ganging up on me…." he whimpered. Nitori didn't have to wait long to see white flags. "Alright fine. _Fine,_ I give. But I'm only designing the swimsuit itself. Ai," he looked at the designer pointedly with a steely gaze. "You got yourself into this. You make with the aesthetics."

Nitori and Nagisa smiled at each other. Underneath the table, they shared a high five.

When the Butterfly founder Rei Ryugazaki himself came to training one day to take measurements, it took up to everybody's last inch of willpower not to completely lose their shit. But still, some was lost (a particularly excited swimmer—Mikoshiba, was it?—even asked him to sign his Japan olympic jersey). Rei smiled then, and Nitori was pretty sure he had been completely forgiven.

It was also the first time Nitori saw the entire Japan swim team, or any swim team for that matter, and damn. _Damn. (No one beat Rin though. That was a given.)_

But it was also the first time Nitori saw the way Rin and Haru really interacted. And they _really_ interacted, so it got harder and harder to convince himself that they were just coach and trainer and that their relationship was completely business only. I mean, what kind of a coach-and-trainer duo joked around like they did? (Well, Rin joked, Haru just sort of acknowledged) Or hung out before, during, and after practice? Or complained about each other's habits, like how Haru doesn't ever text back or how Rin still continues to text him despite that?

A particularly close duo, that's what.

It was clear by now how Nitori felt about Rin, even if he kind of tried to hide it and if Rin kind of tried to ignore it. Unfortunately for Nitori, there really wasn't any way to hide a blush, not without his usual wide-collared jackets or scarves. Jumping into the pool each time his face flamed up clearly wasn't an option, though it started to sound appealing after he felt the blush rise to his cheeks for the nth time.

He watched Haru say something to Rin, which the redhead smiled and nodded to, and decided, to hell with it. If Rin and Haru were involved, the designer knew he had no chance. There was no point in prolonging this, he needed answers and he needed them now.

The problem was breaching the subject. But really, since when was Nitori known for being graceful anywhere other than his clothes? That's right. He wasn't. Not really.

_'Just act casual, act. casual. Embody Nagisa, channel the Nagisa….'_

"So…," he took tentative steps towards the cooler, immediately giving himself away cause really _Nitori was such an open book it was painful._ Rin barely looked up from his cup. "Matsuoka-san," _start with something light._ "Um, how are your times?"

His shoulders stiffened and the aura around him darkened (more than usual). "What, are you going to stop sponsoring me if they're bad?" he snapped. When he saw the designer flinch he immediately caught himself and relaxed. But he didn't apologize. "…they're fine. Not much change."

_'Nice, that was totally something light. Hey let's talk about politics next! Or no, even better, religion.'_

"Um," he started again. Even Nitori realized that the conversation had been dropped. But he still didn't have what he came here for, and really when the conversation was so far gone it couldn't go anywhere else but up from here, right? "Nanase-san, he's a really good coach, right?"

Rin brushed his wet hair from his face. He looked bored. "Yep, great swimmer. Head a little lost in the clouds though. It's too bad he doesn't like to compete."

"Mmm…. So, are you and Nanase-san, like, dating, or something?" _Once again, Ai, I commend you on your smoothness._

Rin sneered. "So that's what you came here for. Tch, figures." He emptied his cup in one motion. "I swear, you and your types, you— _fashion, gossip, whatever,_ things. I swear you're all the same…." He stood to stretch, and Nitori thought he was going to dump his towel on the bench and return to the pool, leaving him there with his question unanswered.

"I'm not dating Haru." Rin said after a moment, and then he pointed to the space behind the cooler. Nitori had to lean over to take a look. "That guy is."

A couple of feet behind the cooler, sitting side-by-side sharing a blue twin popsicle, were the co-trainers Haru and Makoto. Haru was staring at the pool silently, Makoto was reading some files on his clipboard, and the hands they weren't using to hold their popsicles were latched together. They looked peaceful enough to be in some sort of fluffy Korean drama, with the sunlight beaming over them like a warm, comforting blanket.

'Of course,' Nitori thought, and he almost felt ashamed for not seeing it sooner. _'For a fashion, gossip, whatever, type, you're pretty bad at things like this.'_

Rin frowned, though Nitori didn't see it. "It took _for-fucking-ever_ for those idiots to confess and start dating, and dammit I will rip the throat out of the asswipe who does so much as think about getting in between them." He looked at Nitori, frown still set, and for reasons even the redhead couldn't place, admitted, "I'm not dating anyone. I don't date. Not until the olympics. Not until I've won."

And really, that was all the assurance Nitori needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I abusing the italicize? I am abusing the italicize. I'm sorry. Sort of.
> 
> Thanks so much to those who left kudos and stuff! ^^ Thank you thank you thank you!


	3. Breaking Point

"Yo," Nitori heard glasses clinking, and guessed Nagisa was probably doing lab work at home again. "How goes the designs?"

"Oh, you know," he sat in the middle of his studio's mini-kitchen, watching his dumplings spin in the microwave. "I had to do a lot of research for swimsuit designs cause _your husband_ won't help me, but it's better than what I've been doing the past couple of months."

"Ah. Still in that slump, huh?"

"Still in the slump." The microwave beeped, and he hopped off the counter to withdraw the hot food. He left it in its styrofoam case to cool off.

There was a pause, and then Nagisa laughed. "Did I just hear a microwave? Are you eating takeout _again,_ Ai-chan?" There was light static, as if the blond was shaking his head. "Anyway, so, this Matsuoka guy…" more clinking. "He's going to help?"

 _'Huh? What do you mean? I'm the one helping him; I'm his sponsor?'_ Nitori wanted to point out, but he knew Nagisa wasn't stupid, so he just settled with,"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean, _I don't know,_ I'm not the artist," The latter was said somewhat sarcastically, as if his friend already knew. And he likely did, he always knew. "You. And your slump. You're sponsoring this guy, so he's you're muse, correct?"

Nitori quickly swallowed his bite of dumpling, and was relieved they was talking over the phone so his red face couldn't bee seen. "Umm," Was he his muse? He didn't know. He'd never had a muse before. " I'm not sure…? It was kind of just a whim thing, actually…." 

"Really?" That part was muffled. Nagisa probably switched ears. "I don't think so, Ai-chan. You like him so, I think it's deeper than that!"

He stabbed another dumpling and swirled it in sauce. "Well, I mean…how am I supposed to feel about a muse then, exactly?"

Nagisa hummed in contemplation, and then he said thoughtfully, "Passion, I think! Inspiration!" There were sounds of footsteps and papers. "And, in that moment of inspiration, …love." Things were quiet, and when Nagisa spoke again his tone had gone sweet in sentiment. "Like the day Rei told me he wanted to make swimsuits out of my butterflies." A warm chuckle, all white noise absent. "He was so excited, Ai-chan. I think that was when I realized…everything, really. I was his muse, he chose me. And, he was mine."

He still wasn't sure if that was how it was on his side, but it was rare that Nagisa was calm like this and Nitori didn't want to break the atmosphere. "How?" he asked as lightly as he could. "How was he yours?" 

There was a peaceful silence, until Nagisa coughed and Nitori heard a bunch of papers being shuffled around. "I, um! Nothing, it's just…! I - I finally saw, or rather, _remembered,_ the…the beauty of my work, okay? I saw the beauty in the butterflies again _there I said it._ A-anyway…," Nitori wasn't sure if Nagisa was really busy or just pretending to be, at this point. "My point is, things happen. For a reason. And, who knows, maybe this schoolboy crush you have…maybe it'll amount to something greater, you know?"

Nitori absentmindedly continued to swirl the dumpling in its sauce. "Yeah, you're right. Maybe." he muttered. He dropped his fork. "Do me a favor and tell Rei that, would you?"

*****

Work began, Nitori came over to watch them train daily, and may or may not have been deliberately taking the same route Rin did every morning so they could walk to the pools together (for totally professional reasons, of course. Sponsoring Rin was a split second decision, and he needed to get to know his beneficiary as much as he could, right?). He skipped the comfort of his studio and instead brought his sketchpad and tools to the pool, quickly learning that an indoor pool was not a place for full length jeans and lined jackets.

So the first few days went like that. Nitori would set himself on a bench in a corner, be curled over his sketchpad like it was a cat and he was the sun, and not move from his spot the entire day. 'Nanase-san scratches his ankles a lot, so I should keep his short. Maybe jammers would be best? Tachibana-san's tall and has long legs…they'd look best in full-length swimming tights…. Would it be overkill to make Mikoshiba-san's red? But he told me it was his lucky color. And, Matsuoka-san, Matsuoka-san, _Matsuoka-san…._ '

But of course, he had off days, more than he'd like to admit. Days when the artist inspiration refused to hit and all he could come up with were several pages of darkened sketches and crossed out designs. He'd be disappointed, he always was when the slump attacked. So when those days came he preoccupied himself, and to do that, _well…_

"Matsuoka-san, here! Your towel!"

"Do you need someone to get water for the cooler, Nanase-san? I can do it, I'll go now!" _"Okay…. Thank you. But don't call me that."_

"Tachibana-san, I got dry towels for everyone! I'll leave them on the bench here!" _"Oh, thank you, Aiichiro-kun." "…don't call him 'Tachibana-san', either."_

"Nana - I mean, Haru-san likes mackerel, so I should get him this one. Makoto-san likes vegetables, so this should do. And Matsuoka-san likes it spicy…. But, Mikoshiba-san…his style is the crawl, so should I give him the crab-flavored snack? Or, no, maybe lobster would be better…?"

But mostly it was like:

"Matsuoka-san, don't worry, you did great today!"

"Matsuoka-san, here, water!"

"Don't strain yourself, Matsuoka-san! I'll get your bag for you!"

"Matsuoka-san.", "Matsuoka-san?", "Matsuoka-san!"

At first Rin could take it. He was used to it, all the attention, being treated like a celebrity. He was a good swimmer and had a great shot for the olympics, so it was only natural to have fans.

Unfortunately, he was never known for his patience (quite the opposite, actually). Even more unfortunate, Nitori didn't know that.

Haru and Makoto were discussing diet plans when it happened.

They heard a yell followed by a crash, and when they moved to take a look they saw Nitori standing, shivering (from either fear or distress, they couldn't tell), Rin a menacing presence next to him. They were in front of the changing rooms for the entire swim team to see, nobody dared move. The designer's clothes were soaked, and the culprit was a crushed water bottle laying on the ground where it landed. Rin was stiff. _He was angry._

 _"Get out."_ Rin's voice was venom, and it bit at Nitori's chest. "Just shut up already. You don't know anything about swimming. You don't know anything about _me._ So why don't you just get lost?!" Nitori was rooted to his spot, so when he didn't move it made Rin even angrier. "I said _get out!_ You're such a fucking nuisance _nobody wants you here!_ "

"Rin—" Mikoshiba was stern, but ignored.

"You're too distracting, you won't shut the fuck up! My times haven't shortened at all since you got here, did you know that? Of course you didn't, you don't know anything, even when it's _your fault!_ You're just some idiot designer! Just some goddamn ass-kissing airhead who only knows how to make crappy overpriced junk and got in way over his head with this sponsoring shit!"

 _"Matsuoka!"_ That one came from Haru, and even though the rest of the team flinched at the sound Rin was completely deaf to it.

"I'm tired of types like you. Types like you don't know the real world. You don't know what it's like to work hard, to lose, to _suffer_. So stop pretending that you do, and _leave me alone!_ "

Tears had been pooling at his eyes from the beginning, so when Nitori finally found the strength to run it wasn't surprising to hear him sob. His cracked voice resonated in the indoor area.

"What did you do, Matsuoka?! That was your sponsor!" Mikoshiba approached him, but Rin backed off.

"You know what," Rin grabbed his swimming cap and pulled it tight over his head, over his ears. "I never needed a fucking sponsor in the first place. I don't need support. All I ever needed was to focus on my training." And with that he turned in the opposite direction Nitori had just taken, and stalked away.

He'd never admit it, but hours later the sobs still continued to echo in his ears with every stroke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody reached his breaking point....
> 
> I just want to thank everyone who's supported this thus far! ^^ I didn't expect anyone to like this, so really thanks so much for your support! It means a lot!! ಥ‿ಥ


	4. Absence

"I'm really worried."

Haru didn't speak, but Makoto could tell by the way his brows drew slightly together that he felt the same. It had been days since they last saw Nitori. Of course they didn't expect him to show up any time soon after the incident, but without the boy the pool felt…emptier, somehow. Less alive.

Makoto flipped through the sketchpad again, eyeing the designs in a mixture of wonder and guilt. "I'd at least thought he was going to pick up his things…." He'd found drawings of Rin, as well as Haru, himself, Mikoshiba, and several other members of the swim team. Even the blacked out sketches looked lovely to him.

"You don't have to worry so much." The comment was said offhandedly, and it was a good thing Rin wasn't facing them when he said it cause Haru immediately glared at him. "Don't forget, he's designing the swimsuits. He'll come back to deliver them, you'll see that he's actually okay, and then you can relax." It sounded like Rin was trying to convince himself. It was practice as usual for him, and though there were so many other things to think about, Rin couldn't help but wonder why the water cooler was empty.

*****

Mikoshiba gave Rin nothing but frowns since Nitori left, but still he sat dutifully by the rim of the pool, stopwatch in hand to time the redhead. Rin couldn't remember the last time he asked Mikoshiba to do this for him. He started the timer when Rin jumped, and when he stopped it moments later Rin was panting, red eyes pleading.

"…you extended by two seconds. Again." He brushed off the feeling that he was unused to such frankness.

Rin's face contorted in anger. "What? Are you sure?!" he asked, but he already knew the answer. When Mikoshiba nodded he wanted to continue swimming just to hide his face. His time had been stuck at his personal best, but now…. _Now he was getting worse. He was getting worse, and he had no one to blame it on but himself._

"Possibly," Haru mumbled, and Rin instantly picked up his voice cause it was the first time he'd spoken to him in over a week. "The regret is weighing you down." Makoto's clipboard was in his hands, and Rin recalled that the taller trainer had left earlier to get everybody snacks. He decided then that Haru without Makoto was a sad sight.

Rin growled and narrowed his eyes. "The fuck are you talking about…." He pulled himself out of the pool and walked towards the towel rack, absently thinking that it was a lot farther away these past few days. He moved to grab his towel, still looking slightly damp from earlier, when his way was blocked.

It was rare to see the blue-haired trainer angry, but when he was his eyes were cold enough to send chills down anybody's spine. Right now the sight froze Rin to the core, to his spot.

"You never have been able to tell when people were there for you, have you?" Haru's voice was hard, he was pissed, so Rin pushed him away even harder before snatching the towel and stomping to the changing rooms.

He didn't know how long he stood in front of his locker, head against the door and towel draped over his shoulders, thoughts flooding his senses. But by the time he realized that he forgot his key at the bench his hair had already dried, and he found himself bitterly wondering over and over, _'Where the fuck did you go….'_

*****

Rei Ryugazaki wasn't supposed to come back. He was supposed to take everyone's measurements, incorporate Nitori's design to his, make the swimsuits, and give them back to the Pilotfish designer to hand out. That was the plan, that was the agreement. Yet he found a letter from Nitori in the mail (a sign that he misplaced his phone, _again._ ), requesting him to, _'please go in my place to deliver the swimsuits when they're ready. Enclosed is the list of all the swimmers and their respective swimsuits, as well as a brief description of each, in case any of them wonder why the design is how it is.'_

And so that's what he told the two upset trainers when he showed up that morning.

He held his head in his hands, adjusting the frames on his face. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Nanase-san, Tachibana-san, but that's the truth. I expected Ai-san to deliver the swimsuits as well, I'm just as confused as you are." 

"Have you heard from Aiichiro-kun lately though, Ryugazaki-san?" Rei shook his head. When Makoto and Haru looked at each other nervously, Rei felt unease plant itself in the pit of his stomach.

He wasn't given a chance to dwell on it, however, cause suddenly he felt a strong hand grab him by the shoulder and spin him around. "What do you _mean_ you don't know where he is?" The voice was stiff, and the grip only got tighter when Rei recognized it to be Rin. "Aren't you his best friend? How could you not know?!"

"I — he's been busy designing the swimsuits! All this time I thought he was with you!" He shook himself free from the grasp at the same time a taller male—Seijuro Mikoshiba, Rei recalled—pulled Rin back. He adjusted his clothes and narrowed his eyes at the swimmer, exasperatedly wondering what Nitori saw in the guy.

"…I'm worried." Haru confessed, and when his face revealed how true his words were Rin felt himself turn numb. "Some time ago…we got the rest of Aiichiro-san's sponsoring fund."

"What?" Rin demanded. "You mean like, _all of it?_ "

Makoto quickly nodded, he was too stressed to continue giving Rin the cold shoulder at this point. "Rin's account received an unexpectedly huge amount a few days ago. Haru and I suspected…. So we did a bit of investigating, and it turns out that Aiichiro-kun deposited everything in one go! We wanted to ask him about it today, but…," he trailed off tensely. "Please, Ryugazaki-san! Tell us what you know!"

The seed of unease bloomed into his chest. "…did something happen?" All the swimmers' gazes turned to the ground. All except Rin's, who met his with barely-masked regret. He pressed his lips together, _'I should've seen this coming.'_ He'll ask about it later.

Rei considered things for a moment. "It appears that Ai is deliberately trying to avoid you," he anxiously fixed his glasses, trying to buy time for himself to decide. "…it's been a while since I last heard from him personally, so I'm not sure. But my husband told me he's been staying at his studio, so there's a substantial possibility he's still there." He looked at Rin with uncertainty. "Matsuoka-san. I'm giving you the chance to redeem yourself. _Don't waste it, or I won't forgive you." '…whatever it is you did.'_

Rin didn't need to be told twice. He was out the door in an instant and didn't realize that he forgot to change until he was a good couple of blocks away. He didn't turn back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the next chapter: I'm changing the canon history of Free! quite a bit (may be seen as offensive/unfair/tasteless, possibly), so...be prepared? (...let's just say I'm sort of borrowing a character's history.)  
> I mean it's an AU so changes in canon are expected right TwT Hoping I don't get flamed for it orz
> 
> Sorry it took a while to update >.


	5. Roots

Rin rang the doorbell and felt like an idiot, because, well, for one, _he really was an idiot wasn't he,_ and two, this was a _studio, not a house,_ and the hope of Nitori being there dwindled with every second he was met with silence.

But then he heard something fall over from beyond the door, followed by erratic footsteps and stumbling around, and before he could prepare himself the door was swung open and there stood Nitori. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were crumpled, and behind him the studio was a downright mess.

The swimmer expected the door to slam in his face, followed by an absolute _'Go away I don't want to see you again!'_ with maybe a sob that would be sure to break his heart. Not for blue eyes to widen in shock before gleaming and wrinkling at the corners when Nitori smiled.

"Oh, Matsuoka-san! What a pleasant surprise!" He said, and Rin swore his voice was made of warm bath bubbles. "Not that I'm not happy to see you or anything, but did you need something?" When the swimmer didn't reply after a few moments Nitori finally felt the weight of the red eyes on him and fidgeted in discomfort. He noticed what the other was wearing and bowed his head. "Uh…does it have something to do with your swimsuit? Sorry, there's a reason why I put a shark on yours…."

Rin shook his head. "N-no. It's…it's not that." _Brain, you have to start working right now or so help me I'll—_ But his voice continued to resist. "So then…why are you here?"

"Cause," he began, and though his voice was weak his thoughts were not. "Cause you went missing without warning and I'm—and Haru and Makoto's worried about you." _And you've been gone for weeks and your behavior why didn't you contact us why did you just disappear like that didn't you know I was worried didn't you know I was scared?_

"Oh, well…," Nitori seemed to realize that they were standing in the doorway, talking in the middle of the hall. He moved and swung the door open completely. "Here, why don't you come in, Matsuoka-san?" He invited with a smile. "Have a look for yourself."

*****

Rin's brain stopped functioning again when he saw what was behind the boy. The place was an utter wreck.

But he found himself immediately forgiving the studio's state, because now he understood why (though he wasn't able to immediately comprehend). In the middle of that chaos, previously blocked by the designer, proudly stood a tall mannequin. And on that mannequin was a long dress.

The dress was clearly incomplete; strips of white, grey, and navy fabrics of different material hanging from it this way and that. The ends were loose, papers were bobby-pinned on it in ways Rin didn't understand, and there was a brush dipped in paint balancing on the mannequin's decapitated neck. But Rin could tell— _anybody_ could tell, the dress was gorgeous.

Rin didn't realize he wasn't breathing until he heard himself wheeze. Nitori smiled. "The ocean during a storm…." he faintly commented. The redhead turned to eye him, trying to look curious but failing to cover how impressed he was. If Nitori noticed this he didn't show it.

"Being near the pool every day, so close to such a large body of water…reminded me of the ocean. Of my childhood, actually. And…what you told me, that day…. You were right, I mean…." He smiled apologetically before sitting on a stool covered in dry paint. "Sorry. I'm talking too much again. You probably don't want to hear this."

He continued to stare at the dress. "Just…tell Makoto-san and Haru-san that, I'm sorry. They shouldn't worry themselves, I'm alright. I just…had some things to do."

Rin faltered. With that, technically his job was done. He could go back now, information in tow, and nobody could say he didn't answer their questions. Nobody could say he didn't solve the problem. _Except, that he himself still had questions, and he didn't really solve anything._ So instead he sat on the stool next to the designer and placed his hand on his tiny shoulder.

"No." he said, and his voice was gentler than either of them ever expected it could be. "It's okay. I want to know." _I want to know what's been keeping you for so long. I want to know why you were gone._

Nitori faced him, slightly taken aback. But when he explained, his tone was wistful. "I used to study in Samezuka, a school in Iwatobi not too far from the ocean. I used to swim." he gave a scarce smile when Rin looked at him in shock. "And recently, being near the pool every day, so close to water all of a sudden after a forever in Tokyo…and, the way you swam, the way everybody swam…it reminded me of home." His voice turned hard. "And then, what you told me that day…." Nitori turned away, frowning. "You were _wrong_. I _have_ lost something. Something very very dear to me. I _have_ suffered."

When he started up again he was no longer steady. "But…you were also right. I got in way over my head, and I…I forgot." He paused, and Rin thought that that was the end when Nitori moved away from him.

But all he did was adjust his seat so he was facing his half-made dress, and Rin saw that his eyes held something deeper than he allowed himself to show. "I forgot about the ocean during a storm…." his voice had gone quiet, only just audible to the man sitting next to him. "Back home my friend and I used to swim. But I," he cracked. "I lost my friend. In the ocean…during a storm."

There was a silent pause where Rin allowed his words to sink in, and when Nitori gazed at him his expression was entirely different. "You reminded me that I lost something dear to me." He began to feel bad (rather, even worse), but then the silver-haired man smiled, eyes suddenly motivated. "Your words challenged me, _inspired_ me, so I decided, it was time I make peace with my past. No fear of the ocean during a storm. No more running from the water."

*****

The Olympics was a blur of lights and noise, and a mixture of adrenaline and nervousness simultaneously stirred at the pit of his stomach and flooded his chest, threatening to spill. Rin was becoming increasingly antsy as time wore on, and he couldn't help but worry that though he was finally able to beat his best time (and by a long shot), it still wasn't good enough.

But a small, familiar, high-pitched voice continued to ring in his ears, reassuring him that he was _great_ , he was going to do _just fine_ , to _do your best, Matsuoka-san!_ , and _I trust you, I believe in you._

When it was his turn to parade around the pool he fiddled with his goggles and swimming cap and pinched at the sides of his swimsuit again and again, making the material snap against his legs cause he had to make sure he hadn't turned _entirely_ numb. Haru stood near the pool, determinedly staring at its calm surface, and Rin blearily noted that the coach was aligned with his lane, that he was waiting for him, _expecting_ him at the finish line.

When Rin scanned his eyes once again he found Makoto some ways away behind Haru, leaning against the bleachers. He smiled as he talked, and when Rin followed his gaze—

He found Nitori, animatedly leaning over his front-row seat, chatting with Makoto. But he was looking straight at him. When their sights met neither turned away. He was grinning and his eyes shone, and Rin noticed that he was wearing that _damned stained sherpa coat_ as if it was something sentimental. The thumbs-up the designer gave didn't register in Rin's mind, but the swimmer did wonder why he suddenly felt calmer when he stepped onto the platform.

Rin aligned himself with his lane, took stance, waited for the horn, and when it sounded he plunged right in. The noise in his ears didn't decrease even when he was underwater, but he still wasn't listening to it. And no matter how hard he tried he couldn't even remember the feel of the water zipping past him or how many times he resurfaced for air of _if he ever resurfaced at all_. All he knew in those tense moments was _focus_.

When he touched the wall on the other side a buzzer rang, and before he could move he was being pulled out of the pool by Haru and his other teammates and Haru was smiling. _Haru was smiling_. And really, that could only mean one thing.

So Rin smiled, wide and true, and ignored his usual habit of forcing his tears away. He didn't bother to check the board or the score or anything, cause when he looked directly ahead and saw Nitori cheering his head off in his seat, waving his Japan flag like a lunatic, the little voice in his ears told him he had _something else he had to do_. Something after the olympics, something after he'd _won._

Rin wove out of the crowd that gathered, pushed past the congratulations and the press, and completely disregarded the designer's bewildered expression when he tiptoed against the stands, put his arms around him, and _lifted_ him right off his seat. Nitori's shocked yelp was the only sound Rin could clearly remember from that day, which was a shame cause it was cut when the swimmer looked into those blue eyes and kissed him on the spot.

About a million cameras clicked at that moment and the two were bathed in flashing lights. The crowds went wild and no one seemed to care that the second and third placers were standing idly at the side, unable to receive their medals without the champion. Meanwhile, the sherpa coat soaked up the dampness from Rin's arms. Nitori didn't care, Rin still didn't notice.

•••••

Nitori, for reasons Rin doubted even God knew, left his finished dress on its mannequin and refused to let it out of his sight.

"Why, why do you keep it locked up in here?" Rin complained, but in that way Nitori knew he didn't wholeheartedly mean. "Why don't you submit it to that…that…fashion week thingy, like you do with all your other designs?"

"It's just…don't you think it's a little too personal?" They were both facing the grey dress at this moment. Nitori was content with letting it stand where it was, in the middle of the studio, amongst a sea of scrap cloth and thread. Rin found in hardly appropriate.

Rin grunted, but didn't argue. "It's a beautiful dress though," he muttered to admit, and Nitori was surprised to hear a compliment from him. "It's a shame no one else will see it…."

"I'm happy just to have _you_ see it, Rin-san." He glanced at the swimmer and saw his cheeks tint, and his own chest felt giddy for a moment. Nitori gently placed a hand on the bodice. "I'm sorry, I know you're coming from a good place. I just, I don't want to have to explain myself…. If people ask me where I got the idea from…I don't know what I'd say." He faced Rin, who was still admiring the dress, and frowned. "Kind of like you…and the olympics? Right?"

It was silent for a while, and then Rin sighed and threw his hands up in defeat. "Alright alright, do what you want. You win, Ai. Suit yourself." He grabbed a broom and began sweeping at the mess, grumbling, _"I still think it's a huge waste though."_ Nitori pouted.

They compromised. The dress ended up at the Pilotfish studio's display window, and a few seasons later the Shark collection was released for fashion week. A few years later, Nitori found himself designing another dress. A wedding dress.

"I don't understand why you're so against this!" Haru huffed, lightly slamming his teacup on the counter.

He heard Ai sigh over the line. "Really, Haru-san? _Really?"_

"Yes, really!" Across him, Makoto looked utterly defeated with his head in his arms.

"Why can't I have mackerel on my own dress?"

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! There it is, that's the end! :D
> 
> I really hope that I didn't offend anyone with that last chapter TwT
> 
> Thank you so so much for your support, thus far! It truly means a lot to me ಥ‿ಥ So really, thank you!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧


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